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Where great men live

I'm writing this post from a -- surprisingly pleasant -- random roadside hotel in West Virginia drowning my tears in prosecco (and Premal's sweet, soothing company). CLEARLY, I am in no position to write about my departure from my beloved capitol city just yet. So instead I offer pictures from our recent jaunt to Charlottesville, Va, and Thomas Jefferson's Monticello. One of the items on my farewell bucket list was the home of our nation's third president. I'd heard tales of the idyllic mansion Jefferson designed. Tucked away in the Virginia hills with glorious gardens, quirky details, and peacocks roam free on the grounds. Jefferson's home seemed like a fitting place to spend my fatherless father's day (/anniversary). In many ways this tinkering statesman is a perfect blend of my inventor father and my politician grandfather. And as we meandered through another man's life I took special notice of the details they would have loved, and the conversations we might have had (hyper-efficient use of space, and life/philosophy contradictions come to mind). These days, I am frankly shocked by how often I long for conversations with the first great men in my life. I wish I could ask them about Syria and Snowden, and my new car and big move, and the modern folk music movement. Mostly, I wish they knew Premal. But we will never have those conversations, and I will never get to see my joy reflected in their eyes. So instead I will be content to wander one great man's house, with another great man on my arm, and two more tucked safely away in my mind.

^^^Thomas Jefferson knew a thing or two about classy gardening^^^

^^^patriotic flower beds may just be the key to my heart^^^

^^^the biggest, most beautifulest, lettuce head I have ever laid eyes on^^^

^^^down the rabbit hole^^^

^^^an older couple asked if we were on our honeymoon, I think that means we're doing this right^^^